Split Alphas

Chapter 8

The young girl helping us—Carrie—turned out to be human, which made me uneasy. Taylorsville was a mixed town, but I’d had little direct contact with humans. They didn’t know about our kind, and we were taught to be guarded around them—especially in case werewolf hunters ever resurfaced. It hadn’t happened in decades, but our pack never took chances.

Luckily, Carrie seemed unaware of what we were and was more than happy to help me find a dress for the mating ball. We told her it was a private event to avoid too many questions.

“So, what kind of color or style are you looking for?” she asked politely.

“I’m… not sure. I’ve never really had to shop for this kind of event,” I admitted, my voice trailing off as I realized just how out of place I felt.

Carrie studied me for a moment before her face softened. “Leave it to me. I think I have the perfect dress.”

⸻

When I stepped out of the dressing room and turned toward the mirror, I barely recognized myself.

A long black dress hugged my frame, shimmering silver woven into the fabric like stardust. A deep V neckline revealed the swell of my breasts, and a slit ran up the side of my thigh, exposing lean muscle beneath. My curly black hair spilled around my shoulders. I looked… powerful. Like someone worthy of being seen.

But then I noticed my posture. The subtle hunch in my shoulders, the slight curve of insecurity. My collarbones jutted out too far, a reminder of my underweight figure after years of being underfed as a servant. The confidence I saw was surface-level—I could still feel the trembling girl underneath.

“Do you think this will be good enough?” I asked Tom, my voice filled with hesitation.

Tom cleared his throat behind me. “You look like a Luna. Powerful. Beautiful.” He paused, smirking. “Just don’t tell Wyatt I said that. Jealous Alpha and all.”

I laughed softly. I had a feeling Tom and I were going to be good friends. Loyal, sharp-tongued, and protective—he seemed devoted to Wyatt, and now to me, even though we’d only met yesterday.

“I’m going to go up front and pay,” he added. “If there’s anything else you need, just let me know and we’ll get it afterward. All these women keep looking at me like I’m fresh meat.”

I laughed again and nodded. Carrie followed him to the front to finalize the purchase.

As I turned back toward the dressing room, a strange scent hit me—sweet citrus. My blood froze.

Everett.

Amethyst snarled inside my head.

Why would he be here? Panic rose in my chest.

I rushed into the dressing room, heart pounding. I spun around to shut the door—but it slammed shut behind me first.

I let out a scream, but it was cut off by a hand clamping over my mouth. A strong arm yanked me back against a firm chest. I struggled, kicking and thrashing, but it was useless. Then—a sharp prick in my neck.

Wolf’s bane.

Darkness rushed over me.

⸻

Time stopped. I floated in pitch black. My body limp, my mind drifting somewhere between awareness and oblivion. Amethyst howled in my mind, her rage muffled by the poison running through us.

Though unconscious, I could hear bits of sound—muffled yelling, a door slamming, the dull hum of a car engine. Everett must’ve worked quickly. Had Tom heard anything? Was he looking for me?

The vehicle rocked beneath me. I tried to groan, to do something, but the wolf’s bane was strong. My limbs wouldn’t obey. My mind reeled with confusion. Why would Everett go this far?

My skull pulsed with pain, and eventually I gave in, slipping deeper into the dark.

Faintly, before everything went silent again, I heard voices—angry, shouting—coming from the front seat.

And then, nothing.

Just cold emptiness.

When my mind finally returned, the first sensation was cold. Water dripped from above, landing on the back of my neck. I shivered, blinking slowly into the dim light of what looked like… a basement.

My head pounded, my vision blurry.

I was sitting on the floor. My hands were tied behind my back, but my legs were free. My face was sticky on one side, and a dull throb pulsed behind my eye. Amethyst whimpered faintly in my head—still present, but weakened.

Panic started to rise, but I forced myself to breathe slowly.

Don’t panic, I repeated in my head. Think. Focus.

I twisted my wrists, trying to slip out of the bindings. No luck. I closed my eyes, gathering strength, but the pain made it hard to focus.

Then—I heard it.

A door creaked open upstairs. Heavy boots thudded against wooden steps as if he was forcing himself not to retreat back upstairs.

My chest tightened with fear.

Don’t cry. Don’t give him that.

But the tears came anyway, hot and silent.

Everett emerged from the staircase, his tall figure cloaked in shadow. His green eyes—so like Wyatt’s—pierced through me, but where Wyatt’s eyes held warmth, Everett’s were cold. Harsh. Angry.

His gaze swept over me in disgust.

“Already crying?” he sneered. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you something to actually cry about in a minute.”

Shame burned through me, and I looked away, staring at the floor.

“What do you want from me?” I croaked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He looked almost surprised by my defiance. Slowly, he crossed the room and crouched in front of me. With one calloused hand, he grabbed my chin and lifted my face toward his.

His features were eerily beautiful, like Wyatt’s—but wrong. Twisted with bitterness and violence. Yet somehow I couldn’t bear to look away. I craved his attention even if it him looking at me in this way.

Damn the mate bond.

“I do plan on rejecting you,” he said softly as if he was cursing me. “But not before I get what I want.”

“Information.”

“And if I have to torture it out of you—I will.”

His hand trembled slightly on my chin before he let go, standing up again as if the contact had burned him. There was something brittle in his tone—something not as certain as he wanted it to sound.

I could tell he was trying to hurt me, but he didn’t know who I was and what I had been through. It was going to take so much more before my wolf would give up her mate.